Once the food had been gobbled up, John made his way to his own bedroom, changed into his night clothes, and lay down with a sigh. Within moments, he was fast asleep.
Chapter 18
The next morning, John awoke bright and early. With a smile on his face, or as much a one as ever appeared there, and peace in his heart, he made his way down to breakfast.
After eating, he went riding. He took no particular direction. He simply wished to enjoy the fresh clean air, the sunshine, and the smell of green, growing things.
As he rode, he happened to notice, growing in a little wilderness about a half-mile from the house, a large patch of lords and ladies. They were easy to spot at this time of year, since they had grown their full allotment of bright red berries. He dismounted and approached them to look at them more closely, taking special care not to touch any of them.
The sight reminded him of the first time Mary had spoken to him freely without being constrained by politeness. She had saved him from several days of discomfort by warning him away from them. Not only that, but he had since been more careful about touching any plant that he was unfamiliar with.
He did not linger long over the eye-catching but poisonous plants. His mind, however, lingered over memories of Mary far longer. Even after he had re-mounted his horse, he continued to re-live each of their encounters.
He thought back to the very first time he had encountered her. There was nothing interesting about her in the least…notuntil he played whist with her. Though her face was impassive and entirely uninteresting, her mind was as keen as a dirk. The contrast between her dull expression and her sharp mind intrigued him.
Then, there was that day when he saw her dancing in the forest. That was the day she had truly captured his attention. The emotion she expressed through her dance, untutored and clumsy as it was, told an entirely different story about who this young lady was.
It was only after they became more comfortable in each other’s presence, after they began meeting together to explore the woods, that John was able to understand that the passionate dancer and the logical card player were not so different after all.
She had apparently spent many years in study and in musical practice, and the discipline acquired through such activities naturally showed in how she played cards. At the same time, it was clear that such discipline suppressed the very emotion and passion that made her interesting.
John was nearly certain that he was the only man who had any notion just how deep her thoughts and emotions ran, possibly the only person in all the world. As far as he could tell, neither her neighbors, her sisters, nor even her parents ever paid her much attention. Everyone simply took her blank expression as truth, and no one troubled themselves to delve beneath the surface.
Now, however, she had achieved a better balance between her discipline and her emotions. She had learned to show enough of her emotions to make her interesting, but she had not lost her sharp mind, her discipline, or the passions that guided her choices.
Not only had she grown in the social graces in the two years since he saw her in Hertfordshire, but she had matured as well, and with that she had grown significantly in beauty. Though she still retained her sallow complexion, her skin was much smoother than before. Her figure, too, had grown slightly more rounded and far more appealing. To John, she was quite beautiful, and he was only grateful that the other gentlemen in London had been too stupid to see it.
Not that he wished her to remain unloved, but rather that he was fairly certain that if he had to watch her being courted by another man, falling in love with another man, his jealousy would have caused him to do something he would most definitely regret.
By the time John returned to the house, he had come to the conclusion that it was time to seek her out, to court her in earnest, and to convince Mary Bennet to marry him. He had not, however, determined how best to go about it.
Almost as soon as John stepped foot in his home, he was approached by his secretary, Mr. Smith.
“My Lord, I was not aware that you had returned home until I arrived this morning,” the man said. “If you please, I would be grateful to have a word with you in the study.”
John did not have any particular plans for his day, so he willingly followed Mr. Smith. Once they were both in the study, Mr. Smith took the chair behind the desk while John was forced to take the one in front of the desk.
It felt odd for John to be placed in what could be perceived as a position of lower power, but he made no comment. Perhaps Mr. Smith needed to access more of the desk to show him or tell him what needed to be conveyed.
“My Lord, do you recall how, late last year, you attempted to take over keeping the books?” Mr. Smith asked.
“I do,” said John. “I apologize for any extra work I created for you, but it was a necessary distraction for myself. I have every confidence in your ability to correct my errors, and I do not mind if it takes time.”
Mr. Smith sighed. “In fact, I do not have the ability to correct the errors. No one does. The chicken scratch you created by marking out your mistakes repeatedly has made it impossible to tell what the correct figures should be. I have been working on it when I had time ever since you left, and I have made little to no headway.”
John felt as though he was being scolded by his old tutor for not being able to complete an assignment. Such a feeling rankled in an earl who was in his mid-thirties, especially coming from a man who was essentially a servant. He reined in his annoyance, however, and attempted to respond rationally.
“If you cannot correct the books, whatcanyou do?”
He had meant to ask what could be done to fix the problem, but as the words came out of his mouth, he realized it sounded as though he was accusing his secretary of being incompetent.
Mr. Smith must have interpreted it that way, for the man’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “I can quit, my Lord. And that is exactly what I am doing. I hereby resign from the position of your secretary. You may clean up your own mess.”
Before John could recover from his surprise enough to respond, Mr. Smith had stood, picked up a large, packed bag which had been stored out of sight behind the desk, and was heading for the door.
As John watched this, he realized that there was nothing he could have said to prevent his secretary from quitting. If theman had already packed his things, he had been planning this all along.
With that being the case, John decided to at least be kind. It was somewhat his fault after all. “I wish you well,” he said.
